A Puzzle, Never Complete
by Auroraas
Summary: "Rose Cousland is a puzzle that Zevran will never be able to complete. She took in a broken man, loved him, stayed with him even after he pushed her away. A puzzle, indeed. And he wouldn't have it any other way." F!Cousland/Zevran. Some Alistair/Leliana.


Trained to be an infiltrator since the tender age of seven, it does not take Zevran Arainai long to divine the secrets of any given individual. He prides himself on this fact when he is among the Crows, often boasting that he can get to the root of a target's desires in mere minutes.

He keeps on boasting- until he meets his lovely Rose, that is.

From the moment the girl spares his life, she becomes a puzzle that he can never quite complete.

He spends long hours every night observing her in camp, but by the end of the first week of traveling with her and her ragtag group, he can only state a few facts about her with confidence.

The first, is that she is a great beauty. Tall, with high cheekbones, full pink lips, a straight, dainty nose, a huge mass of mahogany curls that falls to her shoulders, piercing blue eyes. Traits shared among the old Fereldan aristocracy, so he understands.

He wonders if she might be a bastard- with the civil war raging throughout the country, most nobles would want to keep any potential heirs close, not throw them to the Wardens, an organization that forces its members to renounce all titles and claims upon joining.

After seeing her on the battlefield, however, that theory is shot down permanently. She moves with grace and strikes with precision that could only be from long hours of practice with the most expensive tutors. She issues commands with ease, almost regality, her head held high and her eyes uncompromising.

A noble girl, then. It does not take long to figure out what house she hails from after that realization. Evenings, she laughs and smiles with the others around the fire. During the nights, however, she paces. Around the perimeter of the camp, in and out of the surrounding forest, around and around she goes. When she has exhausted herself, she crumbles to the ground in front of the fire, tears streaming down her face, and calls her Mabari to her side. The hound, Angus, joins her in mournful contemplation until she eventually douses the fire's embers, trudges back to her tents, and sleeps fitfully until the crack of dawn.

She is grieving, Zevran recognizes this with ease. The rat-like face of Rendon Howe springs to the forefront of his mind, as do the rumors surrounding his recent acquisition of the teyrnir of Highever.

"The tainted rose of Highever and the boy with Maric's face" Howe's contract said. A Cousland, then. The last of her line.

A noblewoman, and yet he has seen her give her last coins to strangers, and offer her aid to any downtrodden she comes across. The nobles in Antiva would not dare mingle with the poor, nor would they risk themselves for another unless it furthered their status in some way.

The second fact he manages to ascertain is that she is young. _Very_ young. Her skin glows with the radiance of adolescence, and her movements can be coltish and awkward at times- still growing, perhaps. She is nearly eighteen, he manages to glean from Alistair. This fact disturbs him; doubly so when in the same conversation, Alistair admits to being only nineteen himself.

_Children_, he thinks to himself. _Only children_.

As time passes, Rose becomes no fascinating to him. She is innocent in the ways of the heart and in her sexuality, but can behead a fully grown man without a second thought. She is a fearless leader one moment, and a grieving child the next. But above all, she is pure of heart and she deals with the world in a way that only leaves him stunned. She can resolve conflicts with grace, and more and more join her cause, attracted to this purity of heart and mind as well.

He is afraid to touch her, at first, frightened by such strange innocence. He focuses his attentions on the inviting Leliana, the prickly Morrigan- both nearly thirty and experienced in their own rights. He and Leliana are too similar, it seems. Both attracted to purity. Alistair begins to fawn over the lovely bard, and Zevran distances himself from her immediately. He makes no headway with Morrigan; she has too many secrets, and he is too eager to find them out.

He goes back to trysts with bar maids and the occasional traveler that may ask to camp with them for the night. But his eye is always drawn back to Rose.

She is far into her eighteenth year, now, and is truly becoming a woman. She has filled out- physically, yes, but mentally as well, and she often seeks him out to talk. He obliges her, of course, and even flirts with her a bit. To his amusement, she often does not know how to respond, but this does not deter her. She is intrigued by him, as well, it seems. His experience is a perfect counter to her innocence, and they manage to build a strong friendship.

One night, as Alistair and Leliana lounge near the fire, the innocent Alistair discovers that his experienced lover is skilled at the lute. The bard begins to strum a few chords, when Zevran inquires as to her knowledge of Antivan songs.

She knows quite a few, it seems, and his eyes shift to Rose as Leliana begins to play. Blue eyes meet gold, and she smiles confusedly at him.

"_Bella Rosetta_," he begins, winking, "would you care to dance?"

She laughs, and he twirls her around the campfire- soon, others join in. They switch off partners, but he has eyes only for her. He pulls her closer- _what are you _doing_, Zevran_, he asks himself- and her innocent blue eyes widen. They spin away from the campfire, toward his isolated tent.

He is gentle with her, and goes as slow as he is able. He does not attempt to teach her, at first, as they dance in a more intimate fashion. Instead, he pleasures her, touches her where no others have ever touched her, and she looks at him all the while with those piercing eyes. He recognizes something blooming in them, something that he has not seen since Rinna.

She comes to him the next night, and the next, and she cries out his name under his practiced movements. He teaches her, too, and soon he cries her name, his beautiful _Rosetta_.

She speaks to him of love, sometimes, she sighs the fated three words in his arms, and he realizes that he may have gone too far. He has lead this child to his heart, and now she is realizing that it is scarred beyond repair.

Rose falls deeper in love with him every day, regardless, and he thinks that he may be falling a bit for her, too. She gives him gifts- leather boots, Antivan leather; Dalish embroidered gloves that remind him of his childhood fantasies. They share a tent, a bedroll, he comforts her when she wakes, screaming of tainted dragons. He tells her of Rinna, eventually, and she kisses him silently and resolutely.

It is a while before he realizes that he is beginning to heal. She kills Talisien, saves his life again, and his heart begins to race whenever he sees her. He begins to watch her in her sleep, to trace his calloused hands over her soft, sweet face and kiss her wildly curling hair.

He loves her.

Zevran Arainai was trained to be an infiltrator since the tender age of seven; it does not take him long to divine the secrets of any given individual. But Rose continues to puzzle him.

He tells her that he cannot share her tent anymore, he tells her to leave him be. She persists, until he breaks. This he will never understand.

He spills his heart to her as he fingers a precious golden ring. He pierces her ear with it, a promise sealed with a lingering kiss.

He is her man, without reservation, this he swears to her again, after Anora takes her throne with Alistair at her side, and Leliana at his. After she slays a tainted dragon and saves a nation. After he and her brother sit by her bedside for weeks, waiting for her to heal. After she takes up the mantle of Commander, and then renounces it. After they disappear to his home country, hide in bliss while the world falls apart.

And after all of this, wrapped only in silken sheets, their child- Eleanor, they agree to name the little girl- growing in her belly, on a hot summer day in Antiva City, she promises that she is his, without reservation. This, she swears.

Rose Cousland is a puzzle that Zevran will never be able to complete. She took in a broken man, loved him, stayed with him even after he pushed her away. A puzzle, indeed. And he wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
